Bespelled
by justlook3
Summary: Stone really knew how to handle that axe and Cassandra takes matters into her own hands. (An alternative look at Fables of Doom)


Today was unsettling for Cassandra. Of course, that was an understatement, being turned into a character in a fairy tale was unsettling enough. She was sure the others were just as thrown off by that fact. But it was more than just being trapped in a fairy tale.

She was flattered by all of the attention when she came back into herself. After all, she'd always been an outsider, even before her tumor. But that was pretty much it. And still worse, when she was the Prince, it was almost as if she expected the attention. She, or rather he, wasn't attracted to any one girl, he just expected them to fall at his feet. Because after all, he was Prince Charming. _So, yay, yet another myth shattered by this perplexing and annoying day_. It was a good thing she'd never really looked for her own Prince Charming. No, white knights were not her type.

But then, neither were cowboys. Or oil riggers. Or genius art historians who liked her but didn't trust her. So why the hell was she staring at Stone whenever she was back to herself? Oh my, did that Huntsman persona suit him. Something completely so _male_ about him today. He even smelled different, like wood smoke and leaves. _Oh man_.

_Get a hold of yourself, Cassandra._

There was that primal male thing. But then there was that deference thing. Whenever he was in Huntsman mode, he stood behind her, his liege, hers to command. And _oh god_ . . . .

They were in danger, real danger. And she was pretty sure when they finally got out of danger, he was going back to keeping her at arm's length.

And she probably wasn't going to be so attracted to him anymore either. Which was probably a good thing.

They'd defeated the wolves but they didn't seem to be quite themselves yet either. Stone didn't seem like a robot, but it definitely seemed like he was still in part the Huntsman. That belt was really . . .and so was the way he held an axe.

_Oh what the hell._

"Stone?" She held her head up and used her most commanding tone. The one that she'd just been using as the Prince. It seemed to be working on him still because he visibly snapped to attention. "Can I have a word with you?"

"Yeah, sure. What about?"

She beckoned him to follow her. She had to hide a smile when she realized that his inability to disobey her command was starting to annoy him. But he followed her without saying anything.

She led him into the staff areas and shut the door firmly behind her.

"Cassandra, what is it?"

"Put the axe down."

"Uh, right. What . . ." He wasn't able to finish his question as the moment he'd put the axe safely down, Cassandra launched herself at him.

For someone who didn't really trust her, he sure as hell kissed her back quickly enough. Then he was the one backing her up against the nearby wall. There was an air of desperation about these kisses, as if they both knew that soon enough they'd be back to their own selves. And that kissing would soon be out of the question.

His gloved hand was cradling her head, keeping her in place against him but still protecting her from the wall. His other arm was wrapped securely around her waist, holding her against him. She had one hand against his chest in the bare vee where both of his layers of shirts were unbuttoned. The other hand was on his waist and she slowly moved it down his back and lower. He grinned against her lips when she finally got to her goal and squeezed his ass.

They were taking in much needed gasps of air between yet another intense kiss when Cassandra noticed that Stone's hand was no longer gloved. They looked at each other wide-eyed, knowing that the spell was finally wearing off.

They both should have been glad, but Stone's eyes were sad and Cassandra suddenly felt bereft.

"We're going back to where we were before. This is over, isn't it?" She whispered.

He nodded. "But . . . damn, okay you need to know this. I wasn't jealous of you, I was jealous of **them**. I'll try, Cassie, I'll try. I promise. But until then . . ."

"Kiss me goodbye." It was one last command.

"Anything, your highness."

One last torrid, desperate kiss. They clung to each other, pouring everything they had into it. Maybe someday they'd be able to give into their attraction again. But for now, they had to make this last. When they finally broke apart, they were back in more normal versions of their clothing. Even the axe in the corner had disappeared.

"It's a shame," he said. "I really liked your boots."

"I liked your belt."

Gently, he dropped one last kiss on her lips and then backed away. "I'm sorry, Cassandra."

She nodded. "You don't know how sorry I am."

"I think I'm starting to. Someday. . . ."

Then he turned and walked out of the room. She touched her lips in thought. They'd never speak of this again. But she'd dream about it. And something told her, he would too.

Until someday.

[end]

* * *

Thanks to both AerynB and Struckk for their help with this one. AerynB for the beta, the many, many emails and for the idea for this whole series. And Struckk for all of that stuff about the axe, she knows what I mean! ;)


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